Hey all, what’s haps?

Most of us are graduating (or those who haven’t already)?

Terrifying.

Future plans? What future plans? Those are gross.

Tell you what, this new Shambot! writing/editing thing is FANCY. Too fancy if you ask me.

So I’m gonna tell you a tale. A Steven and Tim car crash tale.

You know, those are the sexiest of all the tales I can tell.

We were at a gas station, purchasing fuels before Dragon Boat practice. Steven was gassing up his brand new Fit, while I was on energy drinks duty. A noble purpose, I should say. I looked back at Steve to ask him a question as I saw a Silver Hyundai cruising through the intersection receive a cross-sectional tap from a speeding Black Chevy. The impact seemed so minor, just a nudge in the rear corner. Yet then, suddenly, time seemed to slow down and the car careened out of control, an utter lack of traction.

The squeeling tires were complimented by my internal voice attempting to raise a scream to Steve as he stepped out of his car. The Hyundai had regained traction, but now had a direct course for Steven, the gas pump, and his Fit. I tried to raise my hand, but time had now stopped completely, as Steven, frozen halfway outside of his car and I simply watched as the Hyundai slammed directly into the concrete marker at the end of the pump. The deadening BAM filled the air for a microsecond, followed by the Hyundai reeling backward, bumper still wrapped around the embedded concrete pole, headlights cast out now on the ground, cracked. The car continued to roll backwards, spraying green, black and red fluids, as though the heart of the machine had been shattered by the impact. I stood frozen, head cocked to the side.

“Did that just happen?” I inquired internally.

The manager of the gas station rushed past me. “Areyouallright?”

“What?”

“AREYOUALLRIGHT?!”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

I looked at Steve, his wide eyes surveying the scene. The manager could be seen consoling the woman behind the wheel of the Silver Hyundai, while the man responsible for the Black Chevy, slowly walked toward us his eyes filled with concern. I looked at Steve, and finally began to move back towards the spot of impact. The bumper now cast down to the ground in a pool of fluids, had only barely touched the Fit’s rear bumper. The accident had both directly involved our observation, and yet we were totally untouched, unlike the Silver Hyundai, whose life had come to a close. Its lifeblood of oil and anti-freeze flowing away from the carcass.